


A Quirk Of Fate

by IsaWritings



Category: Glee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 05:51:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3839470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsaWritings/pseuds/IsaWritings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Burt discovers Blaine locked in a cupboard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quirk Of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Blangst prompt of the day #747:
> 
> "Burt discovers Blaine locked in a cupboard."
> 
> Enjoy!

Burt should've known that it wasn't a good idea to agree to accompany a group of hyperactive seven-year-olds on a school trip to the zoo.

It had all started when he had gone to collect Kurt from school two weeks before the Easter holidays. While he was waiting by the gate, he looked around at the other parents chatting away about everything and nothing. He nodded politely in greeting to a few people he recognised – some from parent-teacher conferences, others he had seen in his shop before. His wife, Elisabeth, probably knew all of them by name _and_ surname, but then she was the one who usually went to pick up their only son.

The loud ringing of a bell pulled Burt from his thoughts. A few minutes later, the school spewed out a large stream of noisy children running to their respective relatives or spreading out over the playground. By the time most of the kids had already come out, Kurt finally emerged walking next to his teacher, a young woman named Sandra.

“Daddy!”

Burt held out his arms just in time to catch the boy leaping into them. He was glad that Kurt now accepted his father being there, instead of questioning why his mother wasn't there to pick him up, as he had done the first few days.

“Hey, buddy. You had good day?”

“Uh-huh,” Kurt nodded enthusiastically. But before he could launch into what was sure to be a very exciting story of today's adventures, Sandra interrupted their conversation.

“Hey, Burt.”

“Hello, Sandra. Did he behave today?”

“Oh, yeah. Kurt's an angel in class,” she smiled. “Do you have a minute? There's actually something I've been meaning to ask Elisabeth.”

“Sure.”

“As you know, we're taking the kids to the zoo the day before the Easter holidays. I was wondering if Elisabeth would be interested in chaperoning again. We could really use her help, especially now that Monique has gone on maternity leave.”

“Uhm, I don't think that'll be possible, Sandra, I'm sorry.” Burt put Kurt, who was attentively following what they were saying, down. “Go play for a bit, buddy. I just need to have a quick chat with Miss Sandra, okay?”

Though looking as if he wanted to protest, Kurt only nodded and ran off to the playground. Burt knew that his little boy was smart enough to figure out what he and Sandra were going to talk about, but he still wanted to keep him in the dark as much as possible. There was no need to worry him unnecessarily.

“Elisabeth hasn't been feeling so well lately,” Burt confessed, lowering his voice. He didn't want too many people knowing what was going on, but figured that Sandra deserved to be informed given that she and Elisabeth had become fairly good friends over the year. “She's been to the doctor and all, but they haven't been able to find what's wrong with her just yet.”

“Oh my God,” Sandra whispered.

“We haven't told Kurt yet. I mean, he knows his mom's sick, but we're not telling him how serious it is until we're sure what we're up against. For all he knows, it's just a very tenacious bug.”

Sandra nodded.

“I understand. I promise I won't tell him anything.”

“Thank you. Now, about that trip. If you want, I could take a day off and come along instead of Elisabeth.”

“Oh, Burt, no, you don't have to do that,” Sandra quickly replied. “I can find someone else to chaperone.”

“I want to,” Burt insisted. “It's on the eighteenth, right? Jay can take over the shop for a day, it'll be fine.”

“If you're sure...”

“I am.”

“Okay, then, great. Seems like we have ourselves an extra chaperone.” Sandra sent him a grateful smile. “This means a lot, Burt, thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

Which is how he found himself standing in the zoo two weeks later in the middle of a large group of overexcited kids.

Clearly, they weren't the only school that had decided to take their pupils to the zoo on what was promising to be a beautiful and sunny Spring day. All around them were kids itching to break free from the confines of their own group, sometimes succeeding, but more often not. And that's when the realisation dawned on Burt: the zoo wasn't about the animals; for the adults, the real zoo were the kids visiting it.

“Okay, kids, gather around!” Sandra yelled over the noise. “I want each of you to come and get a bracelet and a sticker. Your name and the name of the school are on them, so if you get lost, I want you to find someone who works at the zoo. You'll recognise them from their shirts, okay? They will help you get back to the group.”

As all the kids crowded together around their teacher, Burt looked more closely at the other groups, now noticing the bright colours that were supposed to help distinguish the different groups from each other. Some schools had their kids wearing hats or bright T-shirts. Fortunately their own group had gone with bracelets, because good luck getting Kurt to wear a hat or shirt that didn't match the rest of his carefully chosen clothes. There were stickers of all kinds of colours on the kids' shirts, some were wearing scarves, others also had bracelets but of a different colour, and all of them had the name of their school somewhere on their outfit to make sure they could be returned to the right group in case they got lost. For Kurt's group, it was green plastic bracelets combined with a green sticker on their shirts.

“All set?” he asked his disgruntled-looking son when the latter returned to his side.

“They're green,” Kurt grumbled.

Burt raised a confused eyebrow.

“Something wrong with green?”

“Not with green, per se, no. But last year it was red and I picked my outfit this morning to match that.” Burt tried to suppress a smile at his son's antics, but the latter had spotted it. “It's not funny, dad! Now I'll be forced to walk around all day looking like I have this huge, ugly, _green_ stain on my shirt.”

“Oh, come on, buddy, I'm sure no one will notice.”

“Of course they will! I mean, how could they not?”

“At least the animals won't care,” Burt joked, pulling his son in for a sideways hug. But Kurt just rolled his eyes, pulled away and straightened his clothes.

Once the tour started, things got better. Most kids stayed in the vicinity of the group, not wanting to get lost and miss seeing the animals, which made it easier to watch them. They flocked around each cage they stopped at, pointing at the animals and listening with open mouths to what their guide was telling them. Even Kurt had forgotten all about his fashion crisis in his excitement.

At some point, they entered a large building, which apparently housed a very interesting collection of all kinds of reptiles. Some children screamed when they saw the large snakes curled up in the corners of some of the enclosures, others flinched away from the iguanas and lizards hidden in between the greenery in others. Burt himself was especially fascinated by a chameleon staring back at him with one of its eyes while the other eye flitted around taking in the rest of the people behind Burt. Eventually, he turned away when he realised his group was about to move on.

Then he heard it. A sound that shouldn't be heard in a zoo.

He looked around, trying to determine where it came from. Finally, he discovered a darker corridor that didn't house any animals and that was off-limits to the public. As he moved onwards, ignoring the signs warning him not to go there, the sound grew stronger and more unmistakeable with each step he took. He hadn't been wrong; there really was a child crying somewhere. Just where exactly the child was and what it had been doing in this particular corridor was a mystery to Burt.

At the end, he reached a door that didn't have any signs. The sobbing he had initially heard had by now quieted considerably, as if the child trapped behind that door was finally losing the energy to cry any longer. And 'trapped' was probably exactly the right word for it, seeing that there was a key in the lock, on the outside of the nondescript door.

Just for a second, Burt hesitated. He was well aware that he, as a visitor, had no business opening – let alone unlocking – random doors, but, looking around, he couldn't spot anyone who did have the authority to do so and, so he told himself, this was an emergency. They couldn't expect him to leave a helpless, _crying_ child all alone in there to go chase down a zoo keeper when he just had to turn one lousy key to save said child from its distress, could they?

Either way, Burt didn't care. He turned the key around and opened the door. Staring up at him with impossibly wide eyes was a little boy with dark hair combed back with gel and a bright bow tie. He was sitting on the floor of what looked like a cupboard, knees pressed to his chest with his arms firmly around them, his face wet, and still hiccuping from how hard he had been crying.

“Hey, buddy, how did you end up in there?” Burt murmured. He crouched down so as not to scare the kid any further.

“What's your name?” he asked gently.

It looked like the boy wanted to answer Burt's question from the way he swallowed repeatedly, but his renewed sobs prevented him from actually saying anything. Taking pity on him, Burt stood and picked the boy up and out of the cupboard. The child instinctively wrapped his legs around Burt's waist and his arms around his neck, clinging to him like a little monkey. While the boy cried his heart out onto his shoulder, Burt firmly rubbed his small back, the same way he would if it had been Kurt.

“It's okay, buddy,” Burt soothed him, “no need to cry like that. You're okay.”

It took a while and a lot of soft reassurances, but, eventually, the boy calmed down and looked up, wiping his face with his sleeve. Studying his features, Burt estimated that the child was about Kurt's age, maybe a bit younger.

“Wanna tell me your name, kid?”

“... Blaine.” His voice was low and slightly hoarse from crying.

Burt smiled.

“Nice to meet you, Blaine. My name's Burt.” He extended his hand theatrically, which the kid shook with a wet giggle. “How did you end up in there, kid? Did you get lost?”

Wrong question, apparently; there were the tears again.

“Hey, it's okay,” Burt immediately tried to reassure the boy. “I won't get mad, promise.”

Blaine hid his face in Burt's shoulder again and mumbled something unintelligible.

“What was that?”

“They pushed me in,” the small voice repeated.

“Who did?”

“Robbie and his friends. They don't like me and they're always teasing me 'cause they think my bow ties are stupid and they pushed me in there a-and now I've lost the group and the b-bus is-is gonna leave w-without me a-and–”

“Okay, okay, calm down, son.”

Burt was impressed that Blaine had managed to say all of that without passing out despite the sobs shaking his entire body and robbing him of his breath. But on the other hand, he couldn't understand how kids so young could be so cruel to each other. Right now, though, he had to focus on the problem at hand.

“Take a breath. I'll help you find your way back, alright? And they wouldn't leave without you, trust me.” Burt shifted the boy in his arms and glanced at his watch, estimating where Blaine's group might be heading at this hour. “Besides, it's not even twelve o'clock yet. There's still lunch and then half a day in this park left.”

He turned around and walked out of the deserted hallway. Looking around, he realised that his own group had moved on without him. He continued making his way through the building, still carrying Blaine, who didn't seem to want to let go any time soon, and followed the route the group would have taken. Every now and then, he pointed out some of the more remarkable animals to the child in his arms in an attempt to lift his spirits.

“Dad!” Burt turned his head to see his own little boy running up to him, clearly worried judging from his expression. “Where have you been? Miss Sandra was just about to send someone to–”

Kurt cut off in the middle of his rant upon spotting the dark-haired boy, who had hidden his face once again.

“Who is that?” he asked, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

“This is Blaine. He got lost, so I'm going to take him back to his own group.”

Sandra came up behind Kurt, having spotted them as well.

“Ah, Burt, there you are. And who is this little one?” She lightly touched the back of Blaine's head. “What's your name, sweetie?”

When Blaine didn't even lift his head, Burt answered for him.

“His name's Blaine. I found him in a cupboard in some off-limits corridor.”

Sandra tutted in concern.

“How about you continue the rest of the tour?” Burt suggested. “I'll go see if I can find someone who can help me get Blaine back to his own group.”

Sandra nodded in agreement.

“Okay. You have your map, right? We'll be in the dining area around noon, so we can meet you there, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, kids,” Sandra yelled, turning to the rest of the group. “Let's go! Next up are the elephants. Now who can tell me...”

“Dad.” Burt looked down when he felt Kurt pulling on his sleeve. “Can I go with you?”

“No, buddy, you stay with miss Sandra, alright?”

“But–”

“No, buts, Kurt. Go on. I'll be back before you know it.”

Burt had to physically push his pouting son towards where their group was already walking in the direction of the elephants. He watched as Sandra held back a bit and took Kurt's hand once he'd reached her before he started walking in the other direction. He knew there was supposed to be a place near the dining area where parents could go and collect kids that got lost.

Blaine had gotten over his shyness now that it was just the two of them again and was looking at the cages they passed, but a slightly gloomy expression still marred his young features.

“So, Blaine, how old are you?”

The boy bit his lip, looking at his fingers intently as if counting them out.

“Six and a half,” he eventually announced proudly, holding out six fingers.

“Wow,” Burt acted as though he were thoroughly impressed. “you're already a big boy, then! Practically grown up.”

Blaine giggled.

“No, silly, I'm not grown up yet! Coop says I still have to grow a lot before I can be as tall as him.”

“Oh, my mistake,” Burt smirked, glad he had gotten Blaine out of his funk so easily. “Who's Coop?”

“He's my big brother. His name is Cooper, but I always call him Coop,” Blaine said earnestly. “He's already sixteen and he's really tall, taller even than my dad.”

Burt only listened to half of what Blaine said as he rambled on and on about how his big brother was going to be an actor when he grew up and how he wanted to be an actor too, just like his big brother, and how Coop was helping him with his singing and dancing but was sometimes too busy with his friends to make time for Blaine, “but that's okay, 'cause I still have lots of time to learn.” Burt almost regretted getting Blaine to talk, because, man, the kid talked more than Kurt on his worst days. But, in the end, it was worth it; at least the boy wasn't frowning anymore.

“You know,” he said, cutting off what would probably be another lengthy and adoring glorification of his big brother, “my son Kurt is about your age. Only a year older, actually.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh,” Burt nodded. “He's the kid with the bow tie you saw earlier. He really likes bow ties too, by the way. Wears them all the time. I think you two would get along great.”

Blaine looked at him for a while, apparently thinking over what Burt had said. For a moment, Burt feared he had said too much and put Blaine back into his previous mood by reminding of what had caused their meeting. He was caught by surprise, though, when he heard the child giggle again.

“What's so funny?”

“Your son's name is Kurt?”

“Yeah?” He didn't see what was so amusing about that. As far as he knew, Kurt was a pretty normal name.

“Burt-Kurt, Burt-Kurt.” The kid snorted and Burt couldn't help but grin himself.

“You find that funny?” he said in mock anger.

“No,” Blaine tried, but he couldn't hide the fact that he was laughing, and he took his words back when he noticed Burt's grin. “Yes. It rhymes.”

“It does,” Burt agreed.

They were getting nearer to the dining area. Burt didn't even need his map anymore as there were more than enough signs to direct him in the right direction.

“Look!”

Burt winced as Blaine suddenly squealed in his ear, pointing at something excitedly. All the adult could see there was a building with a huge picture on it of some penguins huddling together.

“What do you see, bud?”

Burt scanned the area, expecting to see some teacher come running up to them in search of Blaine. But no such luck, apparently.

“That's where the penguins live,” the boy said reverently instead.

“You like penguins?” Burt asked, not really needing confirmation of that considering how he had almost lost his hearing in one ear.

“Uh-huh,” Blaine nodded. “They walk really funny. Actually, it's more like waddling, they don't really walk. And they can't fly either, which is kind of sad, but that's okay, 'cause they're really good swimmers. Which is much more important in Antarctica.”

“I thought they lived on the north pole?” Burt asked, feigning ignorance. “You know, with the polar bears, and all.”

“No,” Blaine exclaimed indignantly. “The polar bears live on the north pole, but penguins live in Antarctica.”

“Oh, my bad.” Burt checked the direction indicators again; they were getting closer to their destination. “Why do you like penguins so much? I mean, if they can't even walk or fly...”

Blaine threw him a look that suggested the answer to that should somehow be obvious.

“I like their fur,” he eventually said, when he realised Burt really didn't know. “With the black and white, they look like they're wearing suits, so they're always very well-dressed. All they're missing is a tie or a bow tie.”

Burt chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief; Kurt would love this kid.

“And the babies are really fluffy,” Blaine continued, “and their fur is soft and greyish. But they lose their feathers later on and become black and white like their mummies and daddies.”

As they neared the dining area where the collection point for lost kids was supposed to be, Burt noticed a tall figure of Asian descent explaining something to a zoo keeper, making descriptive gestures with his hands.

“Mr Lee!” Blaine shouted, pointing at the man, and started squirming until Burt put him down. The tall man looked up when he heard his name and smiled in relief when he saw the boy running up to him.

“Blaine, thank God! I've been looking all over for you.” The man crouched down in front of the boy and quickly looked him over, his eyes lingering on the still visible tear tracks.

“Where have you been?” he asked, obviously trying to sound angry, though Burt could see right through the act. “Didn't I say to stay with the group?”

Blaine clearly hadn't picked up on the fact that the teacher was speaking out of worry rather than anger, because his smile melted away to give way to a deep frown and he hung his head. Burt decided to interfere before the boy started crying again.

“Are you Blaine's teacher?” he asked, laying his hand comfortingly on top of the kid's overly gelled head.

“Yes, I am.” The man straightened up. “You're the one who found him?”

“That's right.” He extended his hand. “The name's Burt.”

The teacher shook his hand with a firm grip.

“Lee, nice to meet you. I'm sorry about that. It's just, he was missing for quite some time and I've been searching for him... I was worried, you know.”

“It's okay, I get it.”

“Where did you find him?”

In between the two adults, Blaine was looking up, trying to follow the conversation as if he were following a tennis match.

“In the reptile building. I found him locked in a closet.”

“Locked?” Lee repeated, confusion colouring his tone of voice.

“Uh-huh. Blaine said some kid named Bobby or Robbie or something pushed him in there and locked the door.” The teacher threw a concerned glance at his pupil. “The key was still on the door, so I could get him out easily. But there's no way he could've opened the door himself.”

“Oh, Blaine,” the teacher sighed. “Robbie again?”

The boy nodded, looking down at the ground again and wringing his hands.

“This has happened before?” Burt asked.

“Kind of. Robbie has been picking on Blaine from the beginning, but he's never gone this far before.”

“Can't you do something about it?”

“I've been trying, but the other teachers and the principal don't think there's a problem, so I'm on my own there,” Lee explained with a hint of anger in his voice. “But I'll keep trying.”

“Good.”

Burt admired the young teacher for his passion, for how he cared about his pupils, and for the fact that he was obviously willing to step on toes to keep them all safe and happy.

“I should get back,” he finally announced, crouching in front of Blaine like he had done before. “See you, Blaine. And don't let that Robbie get you down, alright?”

Blaine nodded earnestly and threw his little arms around Burt's neck in a tight hug as only a child could give one.

“Bye, Mr Burt. And thank you.”

“My pleasure, kid.”

He watched the two walk away as they separated ways, waving when Blaine glanced back at him, and smiled somewhat sadly when he realised he'd probably never see the kid again. 

* * *

Friday at last. Burt entered the house he shared with his lovely new wife and their two teenage kids, revelling in the peace and quiet that greeted him. It wasn't very often that he could enjoy reading his paper without the sounds of video games or laughter or sometimes even shouting taking him out of his concentration.

It was sort of strange how thoroughly his life had changed in a matter of months, especially after his heart attack. Before that, it had always been him and Kurt against the rest of the world. And although the latter could throw an epic temper tantrum when he felt like it, Kurt had always been a fairly quiet kid, not blasting his music too loudly and mostly singing in his room, where it couldn't bother his father too much. But now, since his marriage to Carole, there always seemed to be teenage boys – friends of Finn's – lounging around the house, playing video games and raiding the fridge. Add to that the friends Kurt sometimes invited over and Burt could never find a peaceful moment to have some undisturbed time to himself.

Today was an exception, though. He had had an appointment with his cardiologist that afternoon – just a routine check-up, but necessary nonetheless – and had decided to go home afterwards, leaving the shop in Jay's capable hands. Which meant he had the house to himself for once. Carole was still at work, while Finn had football practice and would probably hang out with his friends after that and Kurt wouldn't come home from Dalton until later. So, he settled himself in his favourite armchair and opened his paper, taking the time to actually read the articles instead of just skimming over the headlines.

He started when he heard the front door slam shut. Looking at the clock, he expected to see either Carole or Finn – with Carole being more likely – but was surprised when Kurt rounded the corner, still wearing his uniform.

“Oh. Hey, dad,” he said, coming into the living room and giving his father a quick hug. Behind him, Burt could see a boy standing in the doorway and watching the scene. He was wearing the same uniform as Kurt and seemed strangely familiar, although Burt couldn't pinpoint where he knew him from. “I didn't know you'd be home already.”

Burt tore his eyes away from the other boy to turn his attention to his son.

“Yeah, I had my appointment at the cardiologist's today.”

“That was today? How did it go?”

“It was fine,” he answered, once again looking at the boy waiting patiently for Kurt to introduce him. “Who's your friend?”

“Oh, right.” Kurt turned around, beckoning for the boy to come closer. “Dad, this is Blaine Anderson, lead Warbler and my best friend.”

Burt stood up from his chair, taking in the Warbler's gelled black hair, his uniform – complete with a tie, like Kurt's – and his confident posture. As Burt stood, Blaine closed the distance between them and extended his hand politely.

“It's nice to meet you, Mr Hummel. I've heard a lot about you.”

“Same here.” Burt shook Blaine's hand, noticing the firm grip.

Now that he was standing so close, it slowly dawned on Burt who the teenager reminded him of. Could it be? After all these years, could it be the same boy again?

“Call me Burt,” he finally said when he realised he might have been staring for a bit too long. At once, a frown appeared on Blaine's face, as if he were trying to remember something, but just couldn't put his finger on what it was he needed to remember.

Finally, it was Kurt who broke them out of their trance.

“Hey, dad, can Blaine stay for dinner? I know it's Friday, but it's kind of a long drive back...”

“Yeah, sure.” Burt started returning to his chair when he suddenly realised that, logically, Kurt shouldn't be at home yet, unless he had been speeding. “Why are _you_ home so early, anyway?”

“Oh, the teacher of our last class is sick, so we got off an hour early.” Kurt took the other boy's hand, starting to lead them out of the room. The action somewhat took Burt by surprise, considering that Kurt had never been the touchy-feely type. “We'll be in my room. Don't bother eavesdropping, we'll only be talking about Vogue and fashion and other things you're not interested in.”

As they walked away, Blaine was still sporting a small frown.

“What's wrong?” Kurt asked, having noticed the weirdness between his father and his best friend.

“Oh, nothing,” Blaine answered, smiling again. “Just that your dad looks sort of familiar.”

Kurt shrugged.

“He must have one of those faces.”

“Yeah...”

Silence fell between them as they made a detour to the kitchen to get something to drink. As he waited for Kurt, who was looking through the fridge, a snort escaped the younger boy.

“Burt and Kurt.”

Kurt drew his head back, staring at him and raising one eyebrow when he saw Blaine's grin.

“You find that funny?”

He closed the fridge, carrying two cans of soda, and started leading them upstairs to his room, their voices still loud enough to reach the living room, where Burt was pretending to continue reading his paper.

“Kind of,” Blaine shrugged. “It rhymes.”

Neither of them understood what could possibly be in the paper that had Burt laughing so hard.

**The end.**

 


End file.
